The Quiet Shadows

In the silence, a shadow sways,
An echo of forgotten days.
It whispers softly, sharp and thin,
A hollow cry beneath the skin.

The world outside, a distant hum,
Yet here I sit, where shadows come.
A chair, a room, a fleeting thought,
A tangled web of battles fought.

The stars peer down, cold and aloof,
Their light a distant, fragile proof.
That somewhere vast, connection stirs,
While here, I dwell with phantom murmurs.

The heart, a cavern, deep and wide,
With walls too steep to climb inside.
Each beat, a knock, a plea, a call,
In chambers vast, yet far too small.

And yet, from cracks, a seed may grow,
A tender sprout through bitter snow.
For loneliness, though sharp it feels,
Is fertile ground where strength conceals.

A voice will rise, a hand will reach,
Through tender scars, new paths to breach.
For in this quiet, we may find,
The depth, the light, within our mind.